The Alter Ego
by Soporific
Summary: oneshot. Waging a mental war with one of his antics and dealing with a colleague. Typical Reno.


**Disclaimer:** Final Fantasy VII belongs to Squaresoft/Square-Enix.Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory belongsto Roald Dahl.Me no own. You no sue.

**A/N: **Hi! Tee-hee... Another random thingy-ma-bob I thought of... Just thought people might like to read it. Hope you like it! Enjoy! ...And review, please?

Oh yeah, please note that **_the writing in bold and italics _**are Reno's alter ego's thoughts. :) Hope that makes sense... o.O

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**The Alter Ego**

Oh gawd.

I was standing at the door, eyes boring into the wooden rectangular frame in front of me. In my hands were a bunch of chrysanthemums, and I was feeling extremely awkward. I took a deep breath, and my cold, sweaty hand reached for the door handle. As soon as it came within millimeters away, instinct jerked my hand back. I stood there, terrified like a chicken about to cross the road – not that I would know how _that_ would feel like, mind you.

Gawd. And you know what the sad thing is? I have been standing here for about twenty minutes now, repeating the same process of 'going in now – _not_' again and again. I fidgeted, unable to stay in the same position for more than a second long. This was driving me crazy, and I've decided that it wasn't healthy for me either. Maybe I should just leave. Hmm… But if I leave… On the other hand, if I _don't_ leave…

**_If you leave, she'd be hurt to know that you didn't visit her. Then she'd think that you don't care._**

I don't. Your point?

_**What's in your hands?**_

Air?

_**Flowers, you blithering idiot.**_

So?

**So_, you do care. You want to see her. Oh come on, it is so obvious._**

Is not.

**_You cannot lie to me. I'm your alter ego. So, technically, I am you._**

No you're not.

_**Gawd. You're in serious denial.**_

Am not!

_**Point proven.**_

Whatever. Time to leave.

_**Pfft. Idiot. You'll be back.**_

Won't.

_**Will.**_

Won't

_**Will.**_

Won't

_**Will.**_

"SHUT UP!" I shouted out loud. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. I glance around nervously. Thankfully no one was there. I let out a sigh of relief.

_**Gawd, you're dumb, you know that?**_

I _am_ you, remember? Hah! So who's Mr. Wise Guy now, huh? Huh? _Huh_?

**_Oh, shut up._**

Will do. Going…now…

I turned around, looked at the flowers in my hands, and hesitated as a thought occurred in my mind.

_What the hell am I going to do with these?_

_**Heh. Told you.**_

Argh! I could've screamed out loud, only I wouldn't – or_ couldn't_ – because I was in a bloody hospital. I started pacing up and down the corridor in self-frustration. How the hell did I get here in the first place anyway? It was that stupid florist's fault, I knew it! If she hadn't been asking me – no, _begging_ me – to buy these stupid bunch of stupid flowers in the first place, I would be somewhere else, preferably a stress-free place, smoking a cigarette and enjoying the better side of life. But _no._ I'm not even allowed to smoke in here! …Not that I thought nicotine could help me right now. But still.

Argh! Damn that florist! Damn these flowers! Damn the hospital! And damn these bloody, white, _clean_ _walls!_ I seriously felt like ripping my hair out, but I wouldn't of course – this hair of mine is special. Just then, I heard footsteps behind me, and when I turned around, I saw a familiar face approaching.

"…You're still here?"

It was more of a statement really. I only grunted in reply. I could have sworn he smiled then. _Could_ _have_, because smiling isn't really his style. …But I bet the eyes hiding behind those sunglasses of his were twinkling with amusement. I was so distracted that I didn't even begin to wonder whether sunglasses were allowed inside a hospital. Damn it. If only _he_ had hair, then I would rip _his_ hair out. Unfortunately he was bald.

"Why don't you go in?"

I glared at him.

"Isn't that the original idea?" he continued, and I received the impression that he was enjoying this tremendously.

"Well…yes," I said slowly, "but now I think I'd rather go for Plan B."

"Oh?" His voice carried an aura of amusement. "And what is Plan B?"

"Plan B," I said, "involves me giving these stupid flowers to you, which you will give to _her,_ so I can get out of this freaking sterilized place and continue my life without anymore complication. How bout it?"

He snorted. "Chickening out?"

_**Yes!**_

"No!" I said instinctively. Then I saw the look of disbelief on his face. "Well, I wouldn't _exactly_ put it as 'chickening out'. That's a bit harsh, don't you think?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"It's more like…I dunno. What's the word? Umm, apprehension? Yeah, that's it. I'm just being apprehensive, that's all," I said, satisfied with myself for finding the right word.

"You really should stop using euphemisms as excuses."

I frowned at his reply. "It's not an excuse!"

"Sure, whatever. So why don't you get your butt in there already?"

"Because."

**_Because I'm just being an arrogant, rock-headed jerk who thinks of nothing but his pride!_**

Hey! At least I _have_ pride!

_**Oh please.**_

What's that supposed to mean?

_**Nothing…much…**_

"Because?"

Damn it. I never intended to finish my sentence in the first place. Argh! Must he be so nosy?

"Because?" he demanded yet again, walking briskly towards me.

"Uhh… Because I'm being apprehensive?" I tried in a lame voice.

He snorted. "Is that all you can come up with? You are pitifully pathetic beyond belief. Even _she_ could have come up with a better excuse."

I pretended to take the insult to the heart. "Hey!"

He smiled. I swear on the Bible that he _did_ smile this time – not that I'm a Christian or anything; I'm an atheist, but that's beside the point.

"Hi," he said cheerily. I was still standing there confused at his sudden cheery mood, when his hand reached out for the door handle, and before I knew it, he had shoved me into the room, and slammed the door shut.

_Oh. Gawd._

_**Finally!**_

I mentally cursed him for doing this. I was still facing the door, and hadn't turned around yet. Automatically, I tried to pry the door open, but it wouldn't budge. Damn it! He must be standing out there, preventing me from escaping from this nightmare, and I bet he's having the time of his life. I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. _Okay, _I told myself,_ no need to panic. Just turn around, pray that she's not awake, and then you can leave the flowers on the table and get out of this hellhole. _

I readied myself.

…**_And if she's awake?_**

Argh! I decided to ignore that, and turned around slowly. I gulped, then let out a string of curses under my breath. Damn it! She _was_ awake! I should've listened to that stupid voice in my stupid head!

_**EXACTLY.**_

I mentally kicked myself. She was sitting on the bed, the white hospital sheets covering most of her, with an extremely confused look on her face.

"Uhh, are you okay?"

I was standing there, now trapped like a baby orangutan captured by some evil poacher, and narrowed my eyes at her in dislike. She simply raised an eyebrow in question, and said, "What's going on?"

Damn her. Playing innocent, are we now?

"You know that I know that you know what the hell is going on, so don't play innocent and expect that I will spell it out for you," was my explanation.

She just blinked in confusion, as that slow brain of hers processed my words. When she finally comprehended it, she merely said, "huh…" So she didn't expect an answer. I wasn't about to give her one anyway. That was when she noticed the flowers in my hands.

"Chrysanthemums!" She squealed like a little kid who had just walked into Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. _Oh gawd. _"Are they for me?" she asked in a sweet, mischievous mocking tone.

"No!"

_**Yes!**_

She stared at me.

"Uhh… Well… Yeah… Okay… Sort of…"

_**Yes, yes, yes, damnit!**_

She kept staring.

"Yes, okay, _yes,_ they are for you! Happy now?"

_**Yay!**_

She grinned. "Yup."

Damn it. Why does she have to act so _immature? _I just stood there as I began pondering this incredible phenomenon.

"So are you giving them to me or what?"

I glared at her, but complied with her oh-so-subtle request. I walked up to her bedside table and dumped the flowers on it. She gave me a look. I just stared back innocently.

"Vase," she said.

"Vase," I said, playing along.

She frowned. "There's a vase over there, you idiot," she said as she pointed at the vase next to me.

"I know," I said, still playing along.

She growled.

"What?"

"There's a vase _right next to you_," she pointed out through clenched teeth.

I was grinning now. I love seeing people annoyed, especially _her._ "I can see _that_. So what?"

"_So, put the bloody flowers in the bloody vase."_ She had stressed her sentence so much I could almost see the italics in the air.

"Ouh," I winced on purpose. I was getting more and more amused by the moment. "Someone's in a feisty mood."

She glared.

"You know," I continued, enjoying myself still, "you shouldn't start saying bad words like that. It's not healthy." I waved a finger in front of her face, mimicking a mother scolding her child.

"And this is coming from a man who uses a 'bad word' in every five words that comes out of his mouth? If it's _that_ unhealthy, I'm surprised you're not dead yet. But then again, you _are_ the unhealthiest person I have ever known in my life, and you're still standing here."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I scoffed.

"Let's see…" she said mockingly. "For one, you are a _very _unhygienic person with a _very _unhygienic lifestyle. And don't try to deny that; I've seen your place. It is worse than a pig's sty."

I frowned.

"Plus, all you eat is junk food, you smoke, and you drink way too much."

_**She has a point. Hmm…**_

"That does _not_ mean that I'm unhealthy. On the other hand, it just proves how healthy and fit I am to be able to cope with such a lifestyle one such as you consider 'unhealthy'.

"Bah. What-e-_ver_," she said. "Just don't blame me if you die young."

"Fine then, I won't," I huffed.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, come on then, get on with it," she said.

"What?"

"Flowers. Vase." It was as if she was explaining that 1+12 to a two year old kid. "You," she said slowly, "put the _flowers_ into the _vase_. Do you _understand?_ Oh, and don't forget the water." She saw the look on my face, and she merely smirked. "You know, _water_. W-A-T-E-R," she said, spelling it out slowly. "The liquid thing that comes out of the tap?" She gave a dramatic sigh. "Go to the bathroom and turn on the tap will you? Then you can see for yourself."

I shot her my most venomous glare yet. If looks could kill, I swear she would be six feet under by now. But she just smiled a mockingly sick sweet smile, and I had no choice but to comply with her request. When I had placed the flowers into the vase – _with_ the water – she was grinning.

"Why, thank you."

"Anytime," I said, sarcasm dripping from my voice.

"Oh? Does that mean you're going to come back to change the water then?"

_**Yes!**_

"No."

She feigned disappointment, but stayed silent. The silence hung in the air for a couple of seconds, and I began to fidget uncomfortably.

"So…" she said, trying to start up a conversation. "What brings you here?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh… I dunno… Maybe it was for the scenery, you know, the 'whiteness' of it all, or maybe it was more of the dead-and-dying atmosphere, or maybe I thought I should go somewhere _hygienic_ today…" I said, keeping in mind what she had said about my 'unhygienic lifestyle'. "…or," I saw her raise her eyebrow in expectation, and I purposely added, "…or perhaps it was just to check out that cute nurse chick behind the reception counter, but it is most _definitely_ not because of you."

She grinned. "Are you sure it's not just your alter ego?"

_**Actually, it is.**_

"Sure as hell."

"So you didn't come here to visit me, wish me get-well soon, or to give those flowers to me?"

"Damn straight."

"So how come you had flowers?"

The question hit me by surprise, even though I had been expecting it. "Florist," I said simply. I then mentally gave myself a pat on the back for my smooth reply.

_**No. Friggin. Way.**_

"Florist," she repeated.

"Florist," I said back happily.

"Let me get this straight. You had flowers because 'florist'."

"Pretty much, yeah." When she raised an eyebrow, I added, "That's what florists generally _do_, you know, they sell _flowers?_"

"Oh, haha, Mr. Point-Out-the-Obvious."

"I despise that nickname."

"All the better."

"I'm going," I announced abruptly.

_**Aww… So soon?**_

She frowned. This time, I thought the disappointment was for real. I grinned. "No need to be so disappointed."

"You're going because I managed to peel off your 'cool' I-don't-give-a-shit-about-anybody exterior, aren't you?"

_**Damn straight, lady!**_

"I have a cool exterior now?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, that's why I just implied you did."

"Whatever. Dealing with an immature brat is _way_ below my standards." My trademark smirk found its way back on my face. "See you."

"Uh-huh." A moment of hesitation, then, "And thanks. You know, for the flowers, and for coming. I mean it." Then she smirked. "I feel oh-so-very special now."

"You bloody well should," I muttered inaudibly. With that, I walked over to the exit, and surprise surprise, I found the door quiet easy to open.

"Oh!" she suddenly said. "One more thing!"

I stuck my head back into the room. "What?"

She grinned. "There's really no need to be so 'apprehensive' next time, you know?"

_**Hah!**_

I narrowed my eyes. "You. Are. Annoying."

"No?" she gasped in feigned surprise, purposely overdoing her theatrics. "Me?

Surely not!" Then she grinned. "…Just a little obnoxious."

_**Hahaha! Good call!**_

She smirked. Argh! That was _my_ line! I gave her one last glare before shutting the door behind me. As soon as I stepped outside, I saw my bald buddy still standing where I last saw him.

"Had fun?"

_**Hell yeah.**_

"You wish." I had a nagging suspicion that he had been listening at the door the whole time. I waved a hand in the air, as if to say that it was all nothing.

He grinned in amusement. "So, despite your I-don't-give-a-damn façades that you play so often, you care."

_**Duh!**_

"No, I don't. It was the florist."

"Sure, sure," he shrugged in amusement, and with that, he began walking away, leaving me alone in the deserted white corridor.

Argh! I knew it. Damn that florist! Damn those flowers! Damn the hospital! Damn these bloody, white, _clean walls, _and_ damn her!_

…Oh yeah, and damn my alter ego too.

**_Haha! Go me!_**

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**A/N:** Well?The idea is that Reno basically tries to conceals his 'soft' side, and..well, yeah.Don't look at me like that! I know it's weird! But it was asking for it! I swear! ... Yes, I see the look of disbelief on your faces. -sigh- Nevertheless, please review! The weird-ness of it all _should_ deserve some credit, no? Oh, come on... Click that button! You know you want to:P Hehe.. Ciao, people! Did I say please review:D 


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